


The Succubi Field

by WhatICantShowYou



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, Multiple Orgasms, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatICantShowYou/pseuds/WhatICantShowYou
Summary: Prompted fic for Sex Pollen and Mind Control!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 180





	The Succubi Field

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaddyDrac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaddyDrac/gifts).



> This is a fic exchange between me and @DaddyDrac. You can read her fic here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825766

Few people were dumb enough to enter a succubi field at the end of the summer - the demons long gone but their magic still potent - but Geralt had a job to do and he would do it right. It took quite some arguing to get Jaskier to stay at a good distance, sat upon the frail wooden fence containing the grassy field as he strung out a tune on his lute, tapping the front of his shoes against the horizontal stick he rested his tired feet upon. It wasn’t optimal, but the bard was mostly out of the way while still maintaining a clear view of the witcher to gain his muse from. At worst he would have to deal with an awkward erection for an hour or two. Nothing he hadn’t done before, Geralt thought and entered the field with determination. 

Dealing with lingering succubi magic craved a clear mind and speed; It often helped being somewhat immune to the spells placed upon the area as well, thus witchers were mostly tasked to deal with it. Geralt wasn’t a fan of acting like a farmer keeping roaches out of his produce, but what was a witcher nowadays if not a beast exterminator hired to keep supernatural forces from bothering humans anyway?

“You do much else, dear friend,” said Jaskier after listening to his complaints. He then managed to not bring up a single contract to prove his point, but Geralt appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. One could always trust the bard to say complete bullshit, positive bullshit at least. 

To the tune of his bard’s songs, Geralt cast his signs and sprinkled the contents of his satchel around him, dispelling the magic in his vicinity before moving on. The music and lyrics melted together in a mindless mess as he focused on his task, the sounds tethering him to reality while the magic ran through him. Even a witcher suffered a succubus’ powers, Geralt not looking forward to the horse ride back to claim his prize. 

Everything went quiet all at once, only the faint ringing in the witcher’s ears accompanying him as he worked. Swirling around hastily, Geralt couldn’t find a trace of the bard, his lute discarded in the long grass but the man nowhere to be seen. He focused his hearing and listening, turning around and calling out for Jaskier until he heard a cry behind him. He got the sight of the man sat on the ground with a pained expression, arms loosely hanging next to his body and mouth agape. 

“Jaskier-,” Geralt said and took a step closer. His medallion’s vibrations picked up more vigorously, the witcher stopping as he saw the flowers spread out on the field. There was a reason the succubi were drawn to these places during spring and summer, the flora perfect for their hunger. The magic fused with the pollen had the favoured effect of accelerating the potency exponentially.

“I couldn’t stop.” Jaskier’s breath was laboured, every word taking too much energy to get out. Geralt knew that with every lungful the man took the more heat would spread throughout his body, get heavier with lust and his senses dulled. The witcher stepped closer, wary of the effects his companion experienced. He had been caught in the magic and unable to hold himself back, walking into the field like a man fallen under a spell. Geralt feared he would fall the same fate. He reached out an arm for the man to grab onto, ready to haul him onto his feet and drag him away to stand guard by Roach - and perhaps work his needs out by the time Geralt was done with his job. But faster than his drugged up mind could register, Jaskier took a firm grip on his forearm and put all his weight into dragging the witcher down, Geralt toppling over and falling into the long grass. 

His senses were immediately clouded by the thick scent radiating from his bard as well as the pollen almost sticking to his insides with it’s potent effects. He was stood on all fours over Jaskier, the bard’s thighs moving about quickly to rest on top of each of his own in order to trap him there. His mind blanked when the heels of his friend’s boots dug into his lower back, forcing their clothed cocks to rub together. Looking down he saw Jaskier’s eyes rolled back, his spine arched as he thrust himself up towards Geralt’s body. He kept babbling, words spilling from his mouth in incoherent sentences begging for nothing in particular. His body made most of the talk though, rubbing their cocks together while desperately clinging to the witcher’s body.

The initial shock of falling paired with the blinding pleasure of some needed friction made Geralt lose his clear head, the lust overtaking him rapidly. He barely managed a strangled groan while pushing himself back to a kneeling position before he felt the last drop of his sanity drained out in the long grass around them. The human pawed at his clothes, fumbling with the buttons like a child while getting distracted by the already revealed skin underneath. Geralt strained against the need, kept his hands firmly balled up on his lap but made no move to stop Jaskier’s attempts to undress them, breathing hard through his nose the entire time. 

When lithe and skilful fingers trailed over his chest, Geralt felt like he was burning up. He leaned into the touches, a moan escaping him as the fire grew hotter inside of him. It wasn’t enough - never enough - he needed to touch Jaskier as well. Unable to control his urges, Geralt ripped open the bard’s chemise, the doublet lost somewhere on the field long ago, and dove down. His lips latched onto the skin, mouthing against the human’s nipples hungrily as hands crept further down. Jaskier panted feverishly as Geralt unlaced the man’s breaches, digging out his cock and stroking it roughly in his hand. Wasting no time, Geralt let himself out from his tight confinement as well, stopping for but a moment to take in the picture they were making.

Jaskier’s skin was flushed from his face down to his collarbones, his mouth parted and tongue playing along his lips. His sounds were reduced to whines and groans, words lost somewhere with their clothes on the ground as he finally had the friction his body needed. His hands kept a deathly grip on the witcher’s shoulders, holding onto him like it was his lifeline. Perhaps it was, for Geralt could feel the fire scorch his skin worse for every second longer he sat still admiring the man.

Immediate relief washed over the two when he took both of their lengths in his hand, stroking them simultaneously in quick movements. The sensation of sensitive skin against his own only upped the pleasure, Geralt doubling over as a groan rose inside his throat. He tucked his face into the crook of Jaskier’s neck, mouthing at his pulse and letting his teeth graze over the skin as he kept stroking them. Jaskier thrust up into his hand over and over, crying out whenever the witcher’s thumb slid over his sensitive tip, spreading the pre over their members. Geralt felt his insides tighten up, pleasure growing and expanding throughout him as he neared his orgasm. His hand sped up, teeth breaking the skin on the bard’s neck as the coil within him snapped and his come spurted out in long stripes. Jaskier’s cries rose an octave at the sharp bite into him, bucking his hips as he came undone as well under the witcher. Geralt kept up his pace, milking the two into oversensitivity while their moans bled together into one. 

The two stilled and panted in unison, the heat lessened but still present. To Geralt’s horror he could feel their cocks still rock hard in his grip, leaking and twitching despite their release just seconds ago. A growl rose inside him as he moved away, lapping at the blood on the bard’s neck before sitting up on his knees. Jaskier let out a whine as his own hand trailed down, trying to stroke himself even if Geralt still held the two of them in his large hand. Pawing at him, Jaskier’s unfocused eyes met his own with a pleading look, coherent speech still beyond him.

Geralt focused as hard as he could on his own thoughts, trying to find his own knowledge on the situation buried deep behind the lustful fog. He knew instinctively that he had to work through the heat, tire himself and his friend out in order to be released from the magic’s grip, but feared Jaskier would dislike the reality once the two were free. Would he feel violated? Used? There were too many things swirling through the witcher’s head and he could feel a headache bloom up, fuelled by the fire within him demanding his lust.

Leaning back, Geralt released their cocks. He collected the copious amounts of come spread out over the bard’s abdomen and spread it over his fingers before scooting back, prodding at Jaskier’s entrance while staring him down. Any indication of doubt and he would go, force himself away from the man and let him take care of his own business until the two could leave. Instead he was met with a guttural moan and the bard pushing himself onto his fingers, taking two of them with ease. Geralt joined in with a groan, relaxing his body as well as he could while scissoring his digits inside the other, stretching his rim as much as possible before the unavoidable need to push himself inside took over. 

He managed to get three fingers inside before Jaskier was back to babbling nonsense, using what little strength he had left to take the digits deeper. Geralt’s member twitched at the display, his bard begging for him like a cheap whore while his hands spread their come around on his skin, fingers entering his mouth to lick the remains up. What little willpower he had left fled in that moment, Geralt lining his thick cock up with Jaskier’s entrance and pushing himself inside in one quick motion. 

The tight, wet heat had the witcher choking on his own sounds, eyes closed as his body took over. He wasted no time before pounding into the man, his enhanced strength showing in the way he gripped Jaskier’s hips and used him like a simple cocksleeve. The bard didn’t seem to mind, his back arched and nails digging into the dirt below as his moans were punched out of his lungs. Geralt threw his head back as he kept thrusting inside the man’s body, sighing as the burning sensation dissipated the more he indulged himself. 

“Ah- Ah!” Jaskier kept his mouth open, letting whatever moans and groans he had get ripped out of his throat as the brutal coupling went on. With one of his hands, Geralt took the bard’s neglected length to stroke him, knowing a release would offer some short term relief - and perhaps shorten their time in the field by a substantial margin for the cost of the human’s sanity. It took but a minute to make Jaskier come again, Geralt’s hips snapping viscously back and forth while he worked the man through his second orgasm. 

He let go of Jaskier when he started writhing on the grass, whining and pawing at his hand as overstimulation shook him. Geralt considered for a second to cease all movement but voted against it when moving his hand away from the man’s spent cock ignited fire in his palm. They both needed the touch, skin against skin, and the witcher was not keen on finding out what happened to his nerves as he dismounted Jaskier halfway through. It wasn’t much of a thought anyway, gone from his mind the moment he thrust back inside and felt the tight heat within him rumble. 

He was close, the coil once again drawn into itself and ready to snap. With four last thrusts, Geralt spent himself inside the bard, his head thrown back in ecstasy as his entire body shook with the pleasure. Instead of snapping back and forth, Geralt ground his cock inside Jaskier, his balls nested against the man’s arse. The bard mewled as he kept grinding into his prostate, his cock still hard and leaking despite his recent orgasm. Geralt helped him out the last few moments and sighed as Jaskier came, walls clenching down around him like a vice and milking the last of the witcher’s orgasm from him.

Geralt felt his own cock already softening, pulling out quickly in order to not make himself a victim of the magic again. He knew the man was the most affected, a human in all it’s right and far more susceptible to the magic of a succubus. They both panted hard, Jaskier’s cock yet to go flaccid. The witcher bent down to lick a stripe along the length, taking him into his mouth as the bard bucked and whimpered. 

“N-no! Fuck- Geralt!” Jaskier tried to get him away, his entire body shuddering as the witcher held tight onto his hips. He needed more time for his own lust to dissipate while fending off as much of it as he could from his companion, had to do what he could to get them back to safety. Geralt sucked him hard and took him down his throat without hesitation, fondling Jaskier’s balls and moaning around his cock. The man’s cries turned into pleas, begging for more as his fourth orgasm built up inside him.

It was quick work, Geralt swallowing down his spend before sitting up, hands soothingly petting Jaskier down. The bard was more or less gone, boneless against the long grass as Geralt lifted him up, staggering towards the fence and leaving the field behind. He managed to get Jaskier’s doublet up off the ground before he sat him down, offered it to him without a word before sitting down on the gravelled road with a deep sigh.


End file.
